


Solomon | Grand Caster -- Before the End

by HolyGrailWarGM (RavenkinLegacy)



Series: Dreams of a Grand Order [5]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenkinLegacy/pseuds/HolyGrailWarGM
Summary: Before the end, Ritsuka dreams of the enemy.





	Solomon | Grand Caster -- Before the End

It is the end.

The end of time.

The end of the road.

The end of the world.

And there at the end, there is a temple.

The temple is ancient architecture, stone and marble and gold, beautiful and otherworldly, holy and crumbling.

It stands at the end of time, and I stand on its steps.  The wasteland that human history has become stretches out before me.  It looks endless, until I remember that the spot where I stand is at its end.

With the temple at my back, I can see pillars of stone scattered across the desolate wastes, great columns carved with depictions of humanity’s greatest heroes and accomplishments.  Among the imagery I can see carvings of my Servants and -- here and there -- the events that I witnessed throughout our journeys.

Something tightens in my chest.

_ Is it all for nothing? _

The gentle rustling sound of robes is my only warning before a hand comes to rest on my right shoulder.  A quick glance reveals long tan fingers, ringed with black tattoos and bearing five golden rings.

Fear jolts through me, but before it can reach my feet to get me away from him -- to safety?  where would be safe in this dreamscape? -- his other hand covers my eyes, obscuring the vision ahead.

I freeze.

I don’t know how long I stand there, completely still, with my enemy’s robes brushing the backs of my legs in an impossible breeze, his hands over my shoulder and my face.

Finally I breathe -- habit more than necessity -- and when that draws no response, I venture, “Solomon?”

For a long moment, he does not answer.  Then, “Don’t look.”

Of all the things he could have said at this moment, that is not what I would have expected.  “What?”

“Don’t look,” he repeats.

“Why?”

Silence.

“Solomon… What’s out there?”

“The end of all things.”

I find myself speaking to this man -- to the King of Mages -- like a small child.  “And why don’t you want me to see that?”

The fearful tension that began when he first laid his hand on my shoulder has begun to drain from me, but it seems to be gathering in him.  I feel something like a quake in the hand covering my eyes.

He is quiet for a time, then answers, “It will break you to see.”

The snort that comes out of me is the most polite sound I could come up with in the situation.  “Please. You’d have to try harder than that.”

Silence.

“I’ve seen it already.”

Silence.

I sigh and roll my eyes behind his ringed fingers.  “I’ve been looking at the end all throughout history.  All the Grails you’ve sent back, all the Singularities I’ve fought through… We’ve always been one step away from disaster, and we’ve always pulled through.”

When he breaks his silence, it is with a quiet sigh of his own.  “Humans are remarkably fragile creatures. You never know what will cause one to crumble.”

My brow furrows and my mouth tightens into a frown.  “Excuse you; didn’t i just say that I’ve been through a lot?  You of all people should know that. You put it all there.”

The hand on my shoulder tightens into an iron grip.  A shudder of fear skips through my chest, but I hold as still as I can and feel the echoing shudder that radiates down his arm.  Anger? … Fear?

“You never know what will cause a human to crumble,” he repeats.  “You have seen many things, but this… this is the end of  _ all _ things.  If you look, it will break you.”

“I don’t know why you’re so sure of that.”

This time he answers without hesitation.  “You are a second rate magus. A backup Master.  You were never supposed to have a place in this story.  No one was, but certainly not you.”

I shake my head as much as he will allow with the hand over my eyes.  “People keep saying that, but I’ve gotten this far.”

Silence, and more silence.

We stand in silence, the true silence of the void surrounding us.  If I listen hard enough, I think I can hear a hum, like a resonant, distant song, echoing through the stars overhead.  Mostly, though, I can hear my heartbeat.

I cannot hear his.

_ I wonder if he has one outside of a dream? _

That’s all that goes through my head before I’m leaning back into the swirling robes.  I can feel his tension, his surprise when my back hits his chest. I’m surprised too, but hey, it’s a dream.  I’ve done far worse in dreams.

But besides tensing up, he does nothing in response.  When I’m sure he won’t retaliate, I slowly reach up and let my fingers come to rest on the hand on my shoulder.  His skin is smooth and cold beneath my fingertips. I trace the edges of the smooth rings.

He tenses again, fingers tightening on my shoulder, then he seems to give up.  His hand shifts, just enough that I can slide the tips of my fingers under his palm.  I curl my fingers around his hand. When his fingers curl tentatively around mine, I reach for the hand covering my eyes.

As I touch his wrist, he repeats:  “It will break you.”

There is something in his voice, some quaver of an emotion that I could never expect and could never identify.  It is as if he is trying to convince not only me, but himself as well.

“Isn’t that your goal?”  I ask. I wish that I could keep the bitterness out of my voice.  I am genuinely curious, but… We have seen so much.

Something presses against my hair.  When I feel his breath, I realize that it is his face.  He sighs.

“Solomon?”

“… No.”

“Then what?”  I press. “What is it that you want?”

“… You did not deserve this pain.”

“What?”

The weight of his hand leaves my face and comes down on my left shoulder.  I blink my eyes open, half expecting the shock of the change to wake me up.  But there before me is the end of all things, perfect and still and empty.

I do not break.

I will not break.

I do reach up the touch his other hand.  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of a single silver ring resting in the middle of all the gold ones.

“There,” he says, “the end that awaits you.”

And just like that, his hands are gone and mine are grasping at air.

I gaze a moment longer at the record of human history, carved into eternity on this pillars outside of time.  Then I turn around, back toward the temple.

I am alone.  No longer am I on the temple’s steps, but facing its gate, swirling with stars and the void.

I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and take a step forward.

The end awaits.

**Author's Note:**

> Look guys I just had a lot of feelings about this character and this does not do him justice but I wanted to write this and drop it here anyway so y’all can suffer with me.
> 
> There's another one coming along shortly for "after the end".
> 
> It's been a wild ride.


End file.
